Praying

I am yielding,  I am praying.

Through the night my voice,

a blaring struggle

but I yield.

It has slipped away, and the praying

consistent, has slipped away.

Sound bursting everywhere,

but it jumps to the river

and dunks under,

and rises

and under again …

crowds, stand still

watching the sound gurgle

Die, and breath again.

They see it rise,

and have called me clean.

— Cam Ie

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